


Family Matters

by meghanisadweeb



Series: At Your Mercy 'Verse Spin-offs [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AYM 'verse, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Meeting the Parents, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meghanisadweeb/pseuds/meghanisadweeb
Summary: Ambrose and Amelie's relationship develops and it's finally explained why an American character has a French name.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isnonstop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isnonstop/gifts).



> Why would I finish a story people want to read from me when I can write for this 'verse?

“How would you feel about going to my parents’ for the Fourth of July?” Amelie’s voice broke the serene and calm silence of the bedroom. Her hand kept brushing through his hair, a steady rhythm that had him half asleep. They were both still naked, something that kind of relaxed him even more.

 

If they were both naked, they were equal. It was a little bit of a distraction from how fucked up Amelie could be to him.

 

It occurred to Ambrose just then that he knew absolutely nothing about his dominant’s family. He’d met her father a handful of times, the day of the contract signing and at a couple of dinners, but he’d never even seen her mother. Amelie didn’t have any pictures of them, and she rarely ever even mentioned her family, but when she did, she almost exclusively talked about her older brothers.

 

“I-If that’s what you want, miss.” Ambrose shrugged, biting his lip. “But- What do they think of submissives? Am I going to have to… You know. Act how my parents would want me to?” He didn't want to have to keep quiet all the time and act like some delicate little flower that needed to be protected from the fucking wind, but if that was what Amelie needed him to be… He would do it.

 

He would do pretty much anything for her.

 

“My father- He’s a traditional kind of guy. But he isn’t crazy conservative- it’s hard to explain. He isn’t, like, outright a bigoted asshole. He just has… bad ideas. And he doesn’t really understand that they’re stereotypical and oppressive. He's kinda forced, like, toxic dominance on me for all my life. You know. 'Doms don't cry’ and ‘doms are always right’ and 'you shouldn't need help.’ The thing is, I don't know if he was even doing it on purpose.” Amelie closed her eyes before sighing softly. “I never really was what he wanted me to be. This might have already occurred to you, but I'm really fucking emotional.”

 

“That’s- That’s terrible.” Ambrose furrowed his brows, more than a little bit upset. Amelie, his beautiful and perfect domme, didn’t deserve any of that. “And, for the record, you’re an amazing dominant. You’re so good at it, too? Like, any time you say anything it makes my knees go weak and I just want to obey-” He rambled, cutting himself off before he embarrassed himself.

 

Amelie giggled softly, covering her mouth. “I mean, my dad teaching me that I'm automatically smarter than subs is hardly comparable to what the piece of shit that calls himself your father has done to you. Anyway, are you sure that you don’t mind? I don’t want to make this decision for the both of us. How we spend our time is a relatively big deal and I don’t want to drag you to a small town in central Pennsylvania without your consent. I didn’t know if you were going to want to spend the holiday with your brother and Thomas or try and go back to your parents’ place or whatever.” She smiled, kissing the top of Ambrose’s head.

 

“They're your family, miss, and I want to meet them at some point. Even if this goes terribly I want to say that I've met your parents at least once.” Ambrose said softly, leaning into her some more. “So, yes. I'll go to your parents’ house and be as quiet and reserved and delicate as you need me to be. And if they’re assholes? We can always get a hotel room and fuck for the rest of our break.” He grinned up at his domme, watching her face for a second before kissing her.

 

It wasn’t anything big, but it felt so fucking good. It felt so, so good to be able to show the affection that he had for Amelie without being yelled at or whatever else some cruel, backward-thinking dominant would have done to him for being too pushy and demanding too many kisses or cuddles or hugs.

 

\--

 

“Welcome to sunny Altoona, Pennsylvania, with a population of forty-five thousand midwestern assholes.” Amelie snorted as they passed a cheesy-looking welcome sign, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. “I hope that you like fucking corn. Not, like, the act of fucking corn. You probably shouldn’t shove corn up your ass. But I hope that you like corn. Because we’re just barely fifty miles outside full-blown corn country.”

 

“I don’t really have a strong opinion on corn one way or the other. But I most definitely can eat it.” Ambrose chuckled, glancing over at his domme. “Amelie?” His tone changed suddenly, his voice softer.

 

“What’s up, baby?” She asked, maybe a little bit nervously. Shit. He hadn’t meant to make her anxious. Shit. Fuck.

 

“I just- When was the last time I told you how pretty you are? And how lucky I am to have you?” Ambrose asked quietly, looking down at his lap. She was always so focused on building him up and making him feel better that he rarely ever got to do the same for her. He’d have to correct that. “Because I don’t do it enough. I don’t feel like I appreciate you near as much as I should.”

 

“Oh my God, Ambrose-” Amelie giggled softly, blushing a little. “You don’t have to tell me any of that. I-” Ambrose had managed to get her sort of flustered, something that wasn’t usually an easy feat.

 

He was a little bit proud of himself, actually. “Yes, I do. You say sweet things about me all the time and I want to return the favor. You’re amazing, Ames, and I should tell you that more often.” He grinned, leaning over to peck her cheek.

 

They rode the rest of the way through town in a comfortable silence, eventually pulling up to a gated property with a ridiculously long driveway. Amelie punched in the passcode and then pulled up, stopping when they got to the house. She just sat there for a while, staring forward. It was a nice place, Ambrose figured. It was slightly smaller than his own family’s home but still large. It was extremely French in style- all windows and balconies and columns.

 

“May as well get this over with,” Amelie mumbled, taking the keys out of the ignition and getting their bags out of the back seat. Ambrose followed her closely, fidgeting a little. He was more than a little nervous. He couldn’t mess this up. Fuck.

 

Amelie rang the doorbell and stood there for a while, until an older woman wearing an apron opened it, embracing Amelie almost immediately.

 

“Maman!” Amelie squealed, hugging her tight. The woman must have been her mother, then.

 

Adélie White was a tall woman, mirroring her daughter. Actually, she looked incredibly similar to Amelie. They had the same general shape, the same eyes, the same nose. They even had similar voices, though Amelie was much more confident and Adélie had a thick accent.

 

“Maman, this is Ambrose. He’s my submissive, but you know that.” Amelie pulled away after a second, gesturing to Ambrose. He gave a little wave, smiling sheepishly. “And he’s totally the love of my life.”

 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, ma’am,” Ambrose said quietly, offering his hand for Adélie to shake. She ignored it, kissing him on both cheeks then wrapping her arms around him instead. Ambrose saw Amelie step inside, barely containing her giggles.

 

“None of this ma’am thing, are you understand? I am not- I do not want for you to act differently around me.” Adélie frowned after she had finished the hug, her voice stern. “But- Amelie… She is good to you?” Her voice got much quieter after a second, leading him into the house.

 

“She’s amazing. She treats me very well.” Ambrose nodded, tilting his head to the side. The other submissive clapped and grinned, leading him inside the house.

 

“Very good! I was finishing lunch, can you help me?” They ended up in a pretty spectacular kitchen where tiny sandwiches were stacked up on a serving plate. “Core and then cut les pommes,” she pointed to a bowl of apples. “And then put them on this plate.”

 

It was fairly easy work, and it went by pretty fast. Barely a minute after he was finished, Amelie came down the stairs with three boys and a girl a little older than the two of them. The boy that wasn’t Amelie’s brother and the girl were both wearing collars and chatting quietly amongst themselves. Amelie wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, squeezing him a little.

 

“These are my brothers, Marcel and Antoine.” Amelie grinned, pointing to each one in turn. Marcel- the older of the two brothers- was a little taller than Antoine, but no more or less handsome. Being attractive was something that clearly ran in the family. “And then that’s Brandon, Marcel’s submissive, and Nicole, who’s Antoine’s sub.”

 

“Nice to meet all of you,” Ambrose said politely, nodding.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie does A Bad Thing™.

Ambrose, Brandon, Nicole and Adélie carried plates and bowls with various foods on them to a patio set outside, one that overlooked the entire property. It was nice, all lush grass and hedges and flower bushes. There was a pool, a tennis court- and it all seemed to be dedicated to showing off Amelie’s father’s wealth. Everything was neatly manicured and overly ostentatious. 

 

“Thanks, baby.” Amelie murmured, taking Ambrose right out of his thoughts. She smiled up at him and took a sip of her drink, something that Adélie had made that was bright blue and smelled fruity. “I packed our bathing suits. Want to take a dip in the pool after we’re done with lunch?”

 

“Can’t hurt.” Ambrose shrugged, sitting down next to his domme without even thinking. He froze, looking over to her with wide eyes. “Can I-” He was allowed at home, obviously, but he didn’t know if he would be here. Amelie, looking a little confused, nodded. Ambrose relaxed almost immediately, letting a soft sigh slip past his lips.

 

“Ames, turkey or ham?” Marcel asked from across the table where he had the plate of sandwiches. Jesus fucking Christ, Ambrose was absolutely starving. The chicken nuggets and fries he’d gotten from Wendy’s on the way down really weren’t doing much for him.

 

“Turkey.” Amelie nodded, holding out her plate for him.

 

“And for your sub?” 

 

“He has a name, you know, and you could ask him yourself.” She got defensive suddenly, rolling her eyes. Marcel scoffed, mirroring her expression. “Don’t brush Ambrose off like he isn’t a  _ person _ .”

 

“I’ll have ham. Thank you, sir.” Ambrose said quickly, not wanting to start a fight. He offered his plate with a small smile, nodding when he got a sandwich. It was just a sandwich, but Amelie had to blow it out of proportion. She would probably want to have a conversation about this later. Every bit of injustice that Ambrose ever faced had to be analyzed and explained or else Amelie couldn’t be satisfied. It was tiring, in all honesty. He had kind of accepted that bigoted assholes were always going to exist, but his dominant could never let things like that go.

 

Shortly after that, Amelie’s father, wearing a neatly tailored suit that made Ambrose feel underdressed in a dress shirt and slacks, stepped outside as well. He carried himself in the same way Amelie did, shoulders square and with a confidence that Ambrose would never even come close to having. The kind of confidence that came from living in a world that had been created by people that were like you.

 

“Papa.” Amelie said with nowhere near as much enthusiasm as she had when she had seen her mother. “It’s good to see you. You know Ambrose, right?”

 

“Of course.” Graham replied just as dryly, taking a seat next to his wife.

 

“It’s nice to see you again, sir.” Ambrose kept his eyes firmly fixed on his plate, trying to will himself to be smaller. Lunch passed relatively quickly, with nothing especially consequential occurring. He accidentally cut off Amelie’s father once, though, something that just about gave him a heart attack.

 

“Come on, Ambrose.” Amelie said quietly, standing up and leading him back into the house. “I’m sorry about Marcel. He’s a dick, but he’s my brother, and-”

 

“Amelie, he’s fine. Really. He made an assumption based on what his relationship is like. It’s not his fault, and it’s not your fault.” Ambrose sighed, closing his eyes. He just really, really didn’t want to talk about this. 

 

“No. I refuse to accept the idea that it’s okay for people to decide that they get to treat you differently because of the way you were born.” Amelie shook her head, crossing her arms. “I won’t roll over and let people treat you poorly. Not even my brother.  _ Especially _ not my brother.”

 

“ _ Society _ decided that people can treat me differently, and you’re not going to change that.” Ambrose scoffed, rolling his eyes. He saw Amelie’s entire demeanor change when he said that, saw her fists clench and her eyes narrow. And, honestly? He usually would have been upset about making his domme angry, but he really wanted to get her going right now. “You’re never going to change shit, Amelie, and I’m sorry, but it’s true. You’re not going to change the way that anyone treats me, because you treat me differently, too. You tell me how I should feel. You talk over me and make assumptions about what I'm going to say before you even give me a chance to say it. You talk down to me all the time.”

 

“Ambrose, I want you to think very carefully about the way that you're speaking to me.” Amelie said slowly, raising an eyebrow. For some reason, that only made Ambrose more upset.

 

“What about the way  _ you're _ speaking to  _ me _ ? Don't I get respect, too? I thought that we were equals-”

 

He was cut off by a sudden slap and a blooming pain across his cheek. Amelie had never hit him before. Not one time. He felt tears start to sting at his eyes and recoiled when his domme reached out a hand to him. 

 

“Ambrose, I am  _ so  _ sorry-” Amelie whispered, eyes blown wide. “That was uncalled for, and it certainly wasn't any kind of discipline. I'm so, so sorry.” She shook her head, stepping closer.

 

“No need to worry about it, miss.” Ambrose mumbled, trying to keep bitterness out of his voice. It didn't really work. “I'm sorry for being mouthy. I shouldn't have been disrespectful. You're my dominant and you know what's best for me.” He looked down at the floor, trying to memorize the pattern of the hardwood. His hands were trembling and there was a feeling in his stomach like he was seasick.

 

“Ambrose, don't- Come on, baby boy.” Amelie sighed, taking his hand. They ended up in what Ambrose assumed was his domme’s childhood bedroom. It was nice, he supposed. The color scheme was very yellow and grey, but he hadn't expected anything less. Fuck, yellow fabric was a pain to clean.

 

Amelie sat him down on the bed, standing over him and pacing back and forth. “I- Ambrose, you need to be punished when you act out. But what I did? Hitting you out of anger? That isn't punishment and I stepped over a line. I'm unbelievably sorry, and I'll try to do better about treating you like a little kid. But you were still disrespectful, and I can't let that slide.” She went over to the desk, pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen, and pulled out the chair.

 

Fuck, Ambrose hated writing lines. They were almost worse than a physical punishment. When Amelie made him write lines, he was just being reminded over and over again of his fuck up.

 

_ I will speak respectfully to my dominant and remember that she has my best interests at heart. _

 

_ I will speak respectfully to my dominant and remember that she has my best interests at heart. _

 

_ I will speak respectfully to my dominant and remember that she has my best interests at heart. _

 

And so on and so forth, one hundred times until the words were seared into his mind. At least the pen was nice to write with. There was a bright side to everything, or so his mom had always said. That was the only silver lining he could find with this particular punishment. “I'm finished, miss.” It took him about forty five minutes to do it the right way. If it was sloppy, he had to do it all over again. 

 

“Good boy. Come here.” Amelie held out her arms for him, a position that he was more than happy to fill. “My sweet, perfect little boy.” She held him tight for awhile, until Ambrose pulled back. He honestly just wanted to forget about this entire mess.

 

“So, miss? Can we go swimming?” Ambrose asked hopefully, and suddenly realized that Amelie was crying.

 

“I know that it's probably stupid for me to cry, but- I messed up, Rosie. I did. I was awful to you and I don't know how to make it up to you.” Amelie let out a watery puff of breath that barely passed as a laugh, shaking her head. “I should be the one writing lines and kneeling because you're perfect, and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. You think that I'm a perfect domme but I'm not. I'm flying totally blind.”

 

Ambrose didn't say anything, just switched their positions around so he was the one holding on to her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some sex in this one, folks. After the words "wild laughter" and then it continues through the end of the chapter.

They ended up falling asleep like that. Based on the alarm clock next to the bed, they had been out for a half an hour or so. Her parents probably thought they were fucking. Amelie groaned, rubbing her eyes. She shook Ambrose awake gently, yawning. “We can’t just sleep all day, baby boy.” She sighed, pulling herself back a little. She didn’t know if Ambrose would even want to be near her.

 

“Are we- Can we talk a little, miss? About what happened?” He asked softly, leaning back against the headboard. Amelie sighed, but nodded him on. “I’m sorry for how disrespectfully I said it, but what I said still kind of stands. I feel like sometimes you talk down to be a lot. If I had a dollar for everytime you told me I was being silly, I would have more money than your dad.”

 

“You actually do have more money than my dad.” Amelie shrugged. “I know that’s not the point, but it’s worth pointing out. Everything’s my mom’s. He signed a prenup when they got married, so if they get divorced, pretty much all of this is hers.” God bless her grandparents, honestly.

 

“Oh.”

 

“But back to what we were actually talking about. I’m not doing it on purpose, baby. It just comes out sometimes.” Amelie sighed softly, shaking her head. “But I’ll try and fix it. And- I talk over you because I don’t want you to feel like you have to be complicit in your own oppression. I can’t help but feel like the only reason you don’t get more upset when people treat you badly is because your dad treated you badly for your entire childhood.” Even just thinking about that monster hurting her Ambrose was enough to make her blood boil.

 

“That’s fair, miss.” Ambrose shrugged, looking down into his lap. Amelie lifted his chin, scanning his face.

 

“Don’t do that. You always do that. You just agree with me, no matter what I say.” Amelie sighed, standing up. She pulled one of their bags out from under the bed and opened it, laying out Ambrose’s swim trunks and taking her own bathing suit.

 

\--

 

When Amelie started pulled off her dress, Ambrose couldn’t help that his eyes lingered a little. She was so fucking perfect. All soft curves and wide hips and toned muscle. She was like a work of goddamn art. He caught himself staring and quit, changing as quickly as he possibly could. He suddenly felt kind of inadequate, standing next to Amelie in all her almost-nude glory.

 

“Your collar is going to have to come off.” Amelie said softly, reaching up to unlock it. “I don’t want it getting ruined in the water.” She put it on the nightstand, and Ambrose almost wanted to take it back. He felt almost naked without it on, the same way he did when he took a shower.

 

“But- There’s people here. That aren’t you.” It was a piece of clothing that he usually felt was pretty mandatory. Going without it with people other than his domme would be like… Going without pants and underwear.

 

“Trust me. None of them are going to doubt my claim on you for a half a second.” Amelie hummed, pulling on a loose cover. Ambrose followed her through the kitchen, off the patio, and through a neatly landscaped path to an almost ridiculously large pool.

 

“You can swim, right?” Amelie grinned at him, kicking off her shoes when they stepped onto the concrete. Ambrose nodded, watching her with a small smile of his own. “Race you!” She shouted, starting into a sprint.

 

Ambrose followed, giggling softly. He lost by a landslide, but jumped in after his dominant nonetheless. It was extremely cold and really, really deep, but it gave him a little bit of a rush. He came up after a second, throwing his head back with a wild giggle. Amelie came up shortly after that, a grin spread across her face.

 

“Goddamn, if I could be in the water all the time? I would totally be fine with that.” Amelie said, laying back so she could float for a moment. “Hey.” She got up after a second, and Ambrose could practically see the light bulb over her head. “We should get Antoine and Nicole out here and have a chicken fight.”

 

Ambrose couldn’t help but chuckle softly, tilting his head to the side. He dunked underwater for a second, swimming right up to Amelie and tugging her bikini bottoms down. He was awarded with a gasp and a stern look that eventually devolved into wild laughter.

 

“You’re a bad boy, aren’t you?” Amelie purred, biting her lip. “On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t go and get them. I can think of about twelve other things we could do, and all of them involve you and me naked and me on top of you, kissing down your neck right down to this.” She grinned, reaching down to cup his crotch. “You’re always so good when it comes to making me feel good… Maybe I should return the favor. I’ve been known to suck a dick or two.”

 

“Miss, I- You’re-” Ambrose swallowed thickly, rolling his hips forward into his domme’s hand. He was acutely aware of all of Amelie’s attention. Her burning, bright attention that was all for him. “I want- Oh my god, I want it. I want you.” He whined, moving back, into more shallow waters so he could really stand.

 

They ended up on a lounge chair by the pool, Amelie pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to Ambrose’s chest. “Mine. My perfect baby boy. Every other domme in the world should be jealous because I have the best sub ever.” She tugged down his trunks, pulled down the underwear he had been wearing under them, and pressed a kiss to the head of his cock.

 

Ambrose whimpered softly, trying his damndest not to sound too desperate. He didn’t want to get in trouble or something. Amelie started suckling, then took him deeper. She was right. She was good at this. He didn’t have much of a frame of reference for what a good blowjob was, but he definitely did know that this felt really, really good and he didn’t know what to do or say. “Miss, I’m going to- I'm going to come. I have to- Oh my god, please.” He groaned, tipping his head back.

 

Amelie pulled off of him for just a second, just barely long enough to get out a quick “go ahead, baby” and nod quickly. Ambrose came, and came hard, and watched in near-awe as Amelie, his domme, his amazing wife, swallowed it down.

 

Fucking Christ, he was lucky.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. For the sake of my sanity.


End file.
